


The Burden of Regret

by Katreal



Series: The Burden of Regret [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: A bit of gaster if you read between the lines, Asgore didn't kill all the children, Canonical Character Death, Character driven exploration, Fleshing out the Underground, Gen, Guilt, Not a Happy Story, Pre-Canon, all he wants to do it be a father, asgore cares for his people, but they are his responsibility, exploration of the time between the dreemur family fracturing and the final child falling, he does his best, kingly asgore, trapped between guilt and duty, world building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 23:23:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15806652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katreal/pseuds/Katreal
Summary: He may not have killed them all. But each child was his responsibility.Shorts relating to King Asgore and how he handles the death of children.He does his best. He has to, for his people.





	The Burden of Regret

As a king, tough choices come with the territory. Regret was natural, and given the number of poor decisions he’d made, in the war, after his children, after Toriel...

Yes, Asgore was well acquainted with regret. But the thing he regretted most in that moment was not being the one to kill her.

She was just a little thing. Smaller than his child had been when Chara had joined the family.  She lay broken and bloody, staining what had to have been once a pretty floral patterned shirt. A bright cyan soul pulsed sluggishly above her unmoving chest. The Captain of his guard didn’t seem to notice the blood that still occasionally dripped down his arm guards, nor the brown staining the head of his hammer, which had a matching wound hidden in black hair.

But Asgore could see his arms trembling.

“...did you do this, Captain?” King Asgore asked softly, wishing he could see his friend and bodyguard’s face behind the stylized armor. He was more than a capable warrior, one of the most skilled to survive the War decades before. He’d taken on the best fighters and mages humanity had to offer without flinching.

And he was trembling.

“Yessir your majesty.” The clipped tone was nothing like his normal one, even when on duty it always bubbled, as if a wisecrack or a laugh was hiding just underneath the surface, waiting for a chink in the armor of professionalism to allow him to be himself.

“Your report then, please.”

He took the burden from his friend. The captain barely seemed to notice. It took him a moment to realize he could lower his bloodstained arms to his side.

The small body was far too light for the weight that settled in Asgore’s chest. He turned, gently leaning her against the arm of the throne behind him, paying no mind to the drying blood flaking off onto the royal purple fabric of the cushion. The soul continued to pulse serenely, floating idly before them. A terrible, horrible prize.

“I received a runner from our outpost in Snowdin, my king.” After a poignant pause the words began, falling faster and faster as the initial dam broke. “It hasn’t been that long since the war ended, people recognized what she was. There was mass panic. Encounters starting left and right. Even if the place was less populated than New Home--thank the Designer--by the time I arrived from waterfall the scene had devolved into one of chaos and dust, with the human smack dab in the center of it. Half the civilians who settled in snowdin were old soldiers sir, wanting to get away from the Crowds of New Home. And your last standing order was that all--all the humans who fall--”

“...must die…” He echoed the words back, closing his eyes. The soft cyan light pulsed patiently even through the darkness afforded by his own lids. Those words haunted him. Words said in anger. A white hot rage whose mere shadow made him tremble to remember. Words that he could never take back, because they gave his people hope.

“Half the casualties were from panicked civilians sir, the others were self defense. I could instantly see that much. But--It was a mob. Surrounded by the dust of the dead I had to--deal with the problem. Visibly. To get them to disperse. They cheered--”

She’s so small.

He could almost hear the words in the way his fists clenched, arms jerking briefly back into the position they’d been in while carrying the ch--body.

You should never have been the one to do such a thing.

“I will draft a new order.” The king rested a hand on the large armored shell, politely ignoring the flinch. His paw was covered in dried blood. “Dree--Sir! I can do my duty--”

He hushed the protest.

“I shall need you to set up additional sentry points before the town proper. With orders to capture.” King Asgore said firmly, gripping the arm that had risen in protest, “We need the souls. People need to have hope” The word tasted like a bitter poison, but he pushed onward, “but they also need to be protected. If we can capture a human before they reach the town, using trained sentries rather than civilians--”

“I--yes. Of course. It would prevent the panic and potential magical backlash under duress. Should we perhaps set up sentry stations in the other areas as well? Just because a human appeared in snowdin this time…”

King Asgore let him muse, nodding along at the appropriate points. He might not be the best king, but he knew his people. Giving the Captain a problem and some logistics to gnaw on would do his old friend some good. Something anything to distract from the horrifying reality staring him in the face.

He mostly left the captain to handle the details, but there was one point he refused to budge on.

Capture the humans, yes.

Protect civilians at all cost, yes.

But they would be brought to the capital.

To the King.

No one else would be forced to murder a child.

I was the one to make the declaration. He thought bleakly, i was the one to back us into this corner. the guilt of these sins are my burden to bear.

It was his responsibility.

“Captain?” the meeting having wrapped up, the armored soldier paused in his preparations to depart the throne room, “Could you send one of your pages for the Royal Scientist? “

“Of course, King Asgore. One moment.”

The monarch gave him a smile as he watched him leave. Then it faded, his face growing heavy as his eyes inevitably shifted to the free-floating soul, trying not to look at the useless vacant lump of flesh beneath it. Tried not to think about those blue-tinted lips turned up into a shy smile. Tried not to see echoes of Chara--his family--in that face.

Tried. And failed.

“... I'm so sorry little one. I hope you rest peacefully.”

He had hoped this would never come.

Perhaps the humans would take this as a sign and stay away from the mountain.

Perhaps this would never happen again.

Something told him that was a foolish hope.

Why did it have to be children?

A trembling hand, and he touched the little girl’s hair. It was stiff, brown flaking away onto white fur. That glassy stare looked up at him. Accusing.

This is your fault.

The King of monsters didn’t cry. Couldn’t cry. He’d slain countless enemy combatants during the war. He had to be strong. Even if it was hard to breathe, the weight in his chest forcing itself into his throat. A broken body for a broken home, sitting on a broken throne.

A white hand appeared in his vision, almost...blurry as it rested carefully on his arm. He couldn’t feel it through the armor, but it was a stark contrast against the dark metal. Why was it blurry? He didn’t need glasses. Toriel liked to use them for reading. It’d made her look sophisticated. He’d liked the way they’d looked perched on her muzzle--

“Even a child can be dangerous, my king.” The voice was firm, but not unkind. “A human soul is strong, and their intentions unknown. It grants them an ease of violence that only the strongest of monsters can hope to match. You know this.”

Silence.

“I do.” A shattered monster forced the words out. “It doesn’t make it any easier.”

“No,” A sigh, logic respectfully stepping around the pieces “I suppose it does not.”

 

x-x-x

 

The house was quiet.

It was always quiet nowadays.

Once it had been full of voices. Toriel humming while she baked. Muttering softly under her breath as she read along with a good book before the fireplace. Her unrepentant giggles after a punderful conversation. The children whispering conspiratorially together. Running through the halls without a thought to the various monsters passing through the main hall for audiences with the King.

Those still happened, if more infrequently than they once did. He actually preferred it that way. It got him out of the desolate, grey place even if for only a little while. Once his family had been enough to color his life, and now all he had left was a pitiful, fledgling garden.

Asgore let his paw trail along the dusty railing as he trudged up the stairs. Away from the place that was both his son’s tomb, and his only solace. Maybe he should hire someone to take care of this place. Toriel would have been furious to see the layers of dust that inevitably covered every surface. She’d always been sensitive to the stuff, and Asgore hadn’t minded at all keeping the place tidy for her. It had even been, comforting, in a way. Doing his part to keep their home, and she would fill the air with the delightful scents of cinnamon butterscotch pie.

Really, this was still their home. An empty home, full of ghosts, and voices that echoed only in his memories.

The sound of his steps shifted, going from the muffled carpet on the steps, to the hard polished wood of the front hall. Asgore let out a small sigh as he looked out into the dim grey space. He’d forgotten to turn the lights on again, because what was the point? I would always just be so unsatisfying. The sunlight that filtered through the cracks in the throne room spoiled him sometimes, nourishing the small patch of flowers that had broken through the tile floor and begun to grow where Asriel had--.

Now, now, that is quite enough of that. He shook his head ruefully, boxing up those memories. Instead he thought back to town hall meetings and city planning and both the hope and crushing defeat when they discovered that while the cracks could be widened to allow more sunlight in, the barrier would not allow them to reach the upper layers of stone blocking them from the true sky. Those were bittersweet, but safer memories to linger upon.

He’d argued that the place should have been turned into a small park, where children and monsters could come to see and feel the sun. He’d been outvoted, so it became the throne room instead.

Black armored shapes stirred as he exited his home, beginning to fall into place behind him before halting at his gesture. “There is no need. I won’t be long.”

The first guard, hooked beak and fierce eyes stared back at him from a darksteel helm that resembled a bird of prey objected, “The Captain ordered us to accompany you--”

“I will be fine, Talon.” King Asgore patted her outstretched arm. The metal was cold even through his fur. Really, he never did see the point of having guards as a constant presence. He’d organized them to protect his people, not himself. “It is the barrier that needs protecting, and I assure you I will not be sneaking out with it in my pocket. It is not going anywhere.”

“But Sir--” The monarch’s eyes sought out her partner, a fellow by the name of Beat, sporting a long-muzzled crocodilian shaped helmet, who shrugged helplessly in a ‘what can you do’ gesture that made King Asgore smile fondly. “The security level still hasn’t been lowered from the incident earlier in the week--that means restrictions on personnel allowed into the royal section of the city, as well as protective detail when you leave the safety of--”

“I will not leave the castle grounds without informing you, do not worry. I merely wish to check in with the royal scientist.”

She clicked her beak in disapproval, the sound muffled oddly by the metal, but nodded her head sharply once in acknowledgement. “Very well...but please do not leave the compound.”

“You have my word,” He gave her as warm a smile as he could muster and resisted the urge to pat her fondly on the arm. It wouldn’t be *proper*. And she was one of the sticklers for that sort of thing. He didn’t look back as he strode down the grey bricked pathway, cape a constant fwish of fabric in the wind of his passing.

From here he could look down on the city. A real, sprawling city, carved of white and black stone. It filled the entire cavern, housing all of the monsters as well as leaving room for thousands more. Once it had felt like a gleaming beacon of hope. White marble shining in the dim light from above, iridescent colors playing along their surfaces, the glow thrown off by luminescent gemstones embedded in the ceiling.

Like his home, the symbol of hope had faded to dull grey. Oh he knew the lights still shown. He knew people continued to maintain the same standard of cleanliness as they had back then. He knew nothing really had changed. It just…

He couldn’t see the beauty anymore.

Asgore didn’t linger on the view for long, moving down the elevated path that curved around the edge of the cavern. The gleaming metal door looked quite conspicuous against the rest of the city’s precise stone work, but it hadn’t been designed by the same stone-masons that had been on the original city planning council. The monster responsible for it had turned his nose up at the proposed traditional structure and had not so politely refused their services.

“If I’m to be trapped in a rudimentary hole in the wall, I’m going to design it as I wish, thank you.”

The door slid open at his approach, and Asgore stepped into a place he barely remembered.

 

x-x-x

 

It felt like twilight.

Not that he’d witnessed that magical space between day and night in centuries. King--no just Asgore, stared deep into the pulsing black and white light, trying in vain to see what was on the other side. Nothing changed, between now and the millions of other times he’d spent hours down here. Only this time there was another color, amid the black and white.

A soft light blue glowed at his feet. The first human soul. The first step towards breaking the barrier and saving his people. The light reflected against the glass of its container--a regulator the royal scientist had said, in that distracted manner of his--which sat silently against his foot. They had no vault yet. That was next on his friend’s list. But for now, there was apparently no safer place for the soul than under the king’s supervision.

It was a heavy burden, for all that he barely registered its weight while carrying it. Dead or not, this was someone’s soul. It deserved a better resting place than carted around in an old goat’s arms.

He’d ordered a tomb prepared for the child’s body. He didn’t know the rites required for a proper human funeral but...well...

“It’s probably a lovely day out there,” He mused to the quiet hum of the barrier energies, squinting, “Not that day or night matters much to us down here. Only the castle ever receives residual sunlight. But we get by with what we have.”

A soft breeze fluttered through the glowing barricade, bringing with it the faded scents of outside. It made his heart ache. They stirred old memories, of the pine studded slopes of the mountain which had once been home to several villages. They’d been the largest of settlements, but not the only ones throughout the land.

None remain. His aching heart told him. The wind amongst the rocks almost sounded like quiet weeping. It had for days. The sound haunted him. They are either gone, or buried all the same.

“You are our hope.”

The words drowned out the wind. They echoed, bouncing around the small hollow in stone. The very world seemed to hold its breath. Asgore had surprised himself.

“Those...are the words I’d once told my children.” The old boss monster admitted. To who, he wasn’t entirely sure. To himself? To the soul pulsing quietly at his feet? To the world, locked away beyond a simmering ever changing wall of twilight?

“They were...my...last hope.”


End file.
